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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26698291">The Last Prophecy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeCoppice/pseuds/HopeCoppice'>HopeCoppice</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Reasonable Concern [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Agnes Nutter's Prophecies, Armageddon 2: 2 Arma 2 Geddon, Gen, M/M, Minor Crowley, Minor Newt, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:21:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,322</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26698291</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeCoppice/pseuds/HopeCoppice</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale comes to Anathema for help.</p><p>Part of the GO-Events POV Pairs event. Anathema POV - for an Aziraphale POV fic based on the same concept, check out the other fic in this series by Tezca.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale &amp; Anathema Device, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Reasonable Concern [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1942873</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>GO-Events POV Pairs Works</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! Part one of this little thing for the GO Events POV Pairs Event.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I'm not sure, Newt," Anathema told her boyfriend, perhaps more firmly than she'd intended.</p><p>"It's just that it's been nearly a year, and, well, I thought it might be nice to do something special. Commemorate the occasion."</p><p>"No. No, I really don't think we should."</p><p>Newt's face fell. "Oh. Oh, all right, then."</p><p> </p><p>He didn't ask her why, which was a relief; Anathema had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn't like the answer. After burning the second book of her ancestor's prophecies, they'd walked away hand in hand - but Anathema had broken free and doubled back, "just to make sure it's really out. We don't want to start a wildfire."</p><p>She had carefully nudged the embers with one booted foot, and a single scrap of paper had emerged from the ash.</p><p>
  <em> When the smoke clears and all is revealed, thou shalt celebrate thy gains, not thine averted losses. </em>
</p><p>Anathema had tucked it carefully into her coat pocket, and committed it to memory. Agnes' last instruction. It had seemed pretty clear at the time - don't celebrate the world not ending - and it even made a certain amount of sense. After all, if you started throwing parties every time the world didn't end, you'd never stop. Now, it seemed even clearer - the word <em> averted </em> was very like <em> inverted</em>, a word Agnes had previously used in just a single prophecy, one related to Newt's arrival in her life. A warning, perhaps, of this very situation. No, she had no particular wish to tell Newt why she was so set against his proposed celebration. He was so proud of her for beginning to make her own decisions at last; she didn't want to disappoint him.</p><p> </p><p>The phone rang, and she rushed to answer it, grateful for the chance to end the dangerous conversation.</p><p>"Hello?"</p><p>"Hello, Anathema? I, ah. I was just wondering if I could stop by. I wanted to ask you something, about... well, it's not something I want to discuss on the telephone."</p><p>"Right. Everything OK?"</p><p> </p><p>Newt made a series of gestures that seemed to translate, roughly, to <em> oh rats I should have been halfway to Mum's by now I'll see you tomorrow</em>, and she waved him away, immediately distracted from the kiss he pressed into her hair by Aziraphale's pronouncement.</p><p>"Er... well, no, not really, I'm afraid. I think it might in fact be the end of the world." For a moment, she couldn't begin to respond to that. "Anathema? Are you still there?"</p><p>"Literally or figuratively?" She began to wonder if it was too late to catch Newt, but even as she thought it the noise of Dick Turpin's engine faded away. "The end of the world, I mean."</p><p>"Oh, well, both, possibly." There was a weighted pause, the silence on the line broken only by static. "Do you mind-?"</p><p>"No, come on over. I'll make us some tea." There she went, well on her way to turning into an Englishwoman. But it would soothe Aziraphale - as long as she remembered to use the kettle and not the microwave - and she could certainly do with some soothing herself. How could it have come to this, again?</p><p> </p><p>She said her goodbyes to Aziraphale and wandered into the kitchen.</p><p><em> Armageddon, </em> she thought to herself, <em> must be that time of year. </em></p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale arrived at Jasmine Cottage miraculously quickly, which surprised Anathema only in as much as she hadn't expected Crowley to pass up the opportunity to drive his car, and alone, which solved that mystery but raised, on the whole, more questions than it answered. For this reason, Anathema felt she could be forgiven for breezing right past the pleasantries.</p><p>"No Crowley?"</p><p>"No." Aziraphale's face fell, which was quite a feat, considering how worried he'd already looked when she opened the door to him. "No, not today. Did you say something about tea?"</p><p>"Kettle's just boiling." And, if she wasn't imagining things, a little of the tension left his body. Perhaps whatever was going on wasn't so bad, after all.</p><p> </p><p>"So," she began brightly, once they were both settled at the table with their cups, "what's this about the end of the world? I'm sure it's not as bad as all that-"</p><p>"It's worse, because it's <em> Crowley</em>. I think Crowley's working for Hell again. I think he's trying to bring about Armageddon. Again."</p><p>"What? Why? But- he was trying to <em> stop </em> the world from ending, why would he-?"</p><p>"If Hell has got its claws into him, dear girl, he may not have a choice." Aziraphale looked so perturbed by the idea that she didn't have the heart to question him further. Aziraphale, after all, knew both Crowley and Hell far better than she did.</p><p>"Right. Then what's he been doing, and what can I do to help?"</p><p> </p><p>The list of suspicious Crowley behaviours was certainly worrying. He had, apparently, been unusually secretive, sneaking off to places unknown and refusing to give sensible answers to Aziraphale's very reasonable questions.</p><p>"I don't believe for a moment that he was actually teaching an octopus to milk dolphins, and frankly I'd be concerned even if I <em> did</em>. Milking fish! Whatever next?"</p><p>Most (literally) damning of all, in Aziraphale's eyes, was that Crowley had returned from his most recent disappearance smelling of <em> smoke</em>. Anathema didn’t know much about Hell, but given the way Aziraphale imparted this information, Anathema deduced that smoke was a mark of infernal involvement, which checked out with what she <em> did </em>know about the place, thanks to growing up in a culture absolutely saturated with Christianity. It didn't sound good.</p><p>"OK, say you're right and Crowley is in over his head. How can I help save the world?"</p><p>"And Crowley," Aziraphale added reproachfully, and she nodded. "I was hoping your great-grandmother might have had something to say about it."</p><p>"Agnes? No, the book only went up to the first Armageddon."</p><p>"Oh. Oh, how... that's very inconvenient." Aziraphale's lips turned down into an expression with more than a hint of a pout to it. Anathema had a sneaking suspicion that this same look, turned upon Crowley, would result in the immediate fixing of any problem that might be troubling him. Since Anathema was not Crowley, nor Agnes, and could therefore neither stop arranging the apocalypse nor provide prophecies predicting it, the angel merely looked slightly pathetic. Perhaps realising that pouting was getting him nowhere, he cleared his throat and continued in a more businesslike manner. "It's not that I'm not terribly grateful for all the help she <em> did </em> give us, mind you, but I do think that if there was going to be another... event... she might have left another book."</p><p> </p><p>Anathema remained silent, the enormity of her actions suddenly dawning on her. Of course another book might mean another cataclysm. She should have realised- She should have <em> read- </em></p><p>"Still, I suppose she was interrupted," Aziraphale concluded sadly, and Anathema could bear the guilt no longer.</p><p>"She did. Agnes. She did leave another book."</p><p>"Another book?" Aziraphale brightened considerably. "Oh, how splendid! Do you have it? May I see it?"</p><p>"I burned it," Anathema admitted, the words barely a breath, and for a moment the angel was perfectly still. Then he <em> recoiled, </em> as if from a snake- or, no, a spider, or... whatever it might be that actually scared angels.</p><p> </p><p>It felt like several hours before he spoke again.</p><p>"I'm sorry, you did what?"</p><p>"The manuscript was delivered right after Armageddon and Newt said <em> well, do you want to be a descendant all your life </em> and- and I thought it was done, I thought it would all be silly things like lottery numbers and stock tips-"</p><p>"But it wasn't?" Aziraphale's face had taken on a feverish tinge, now. "You read the prophecies, you remember them?"</p><p>"I'm sorry. I didn't. I didn't want to know."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale sagged, like a puppet with its strings cut, and when he spoke his voice wasn't angry. It was so much worse than that. Anathema had never given much thought to what it would feel like to disappoint an angel, but she could never have imagined that it would be this awful.</p><p>"Never mind, my dear. Never mind. We shall simply have to soldier on without it."</p><p>"I can try to find him," she blurted, desperate to make amends. "A locator spell, or... I'm told my intuition is quite good."</p><p><a id="return1" name="return1"></a>"Oh, would you?" And that face, she could see why Crowley would move mountains for that face<sup>[<a href="#note1">1</a>]</sup>.</p><p>"I can <em> try</em>," she warned him, and set to work.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello! Second part here, it's only short but I hope it's sweet. Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Anathema’s first spell put Crowley’s location firmly at home in their cottage in the South Downs.</p><p>“No, no, that can’t be right,” Aziraphale insisted, “he wouldn’t end the world in our <em> home.</em>” Anathema still wasn’t entirely sure he would end the world at all, and therefore reasoned that if he <em> was, </em> all bets were off regarding the location. Still, she tried a different spell. And another one. All with the same result.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Aziraphale,” she told him quietly, “I think you’re going to have to go home and confront him.”</p><p>“Oh.” It seemed that course of action hadn’t even occurred to him. “Oh, dear, I suppose I must- but you’ll come with me, won’t you? One never knows when a human touch might be required-”</p><p>“Of course. But Newt’s got the car-”</p><p>“Oh, never mind that, I can take you with me. No limits on my miracles these days, frivolous or otherwise.”</p><p>“Right. Then how-?” She was cut off as the world around them seemed to ripple and before she knew it, she was standing in an unfamiliar garden. The sun was setting, its rays barely filtering through the leaves of an old apple tree, its windswept branches twisted and warped. She was reminded, irresistibly, of a snake.</p><p> </p><p>“What a lovely garden,” she began, but Aziraphale wasn’t listening, his face turned fearfully towards the cottage door.</p><p>“Oh, dear,” he murmured, wringing his hands, and Anathema sighed. This couldn’t be easy for him, she reminded herself - and if he couldn’t face it, she would have to.</p><p>“Come on. I’ll go first, if you like.”</p><p>“Oh, no - I couldn’t - no, truly. I don’t imagine <em> I </em>shall be in any danger.” And Aziraphale, Angel of the Eastern Gate, drew himself up to his full height and opened the door.</p><p> </p><p>Anathema followed him in, peering over his shoulder to see- well, nothing, at first. She couldn’t see anything but light, flickering firelight throwing odd shadows up the walls. Then, gradually, as her eyes adjusted, she was able to make out details; a small table set for two, a bottle of wine open and breathing, a vase of red roses as a centrepiece. The flickering flames of what looked like <em>hundreds</em> of candles, artfully dotted about the room. And, beyond it all, a figure draped across a low sofa, blinking rapidly awake.</p><p>“Crowley?” Aziraphale still sounded confused; Anathema, however, had seen enough to realise that she was in no danger - except, perhaps, of becoming a third wheel.</p><p>“Angel?” Crowley sat up, running a hand through his hair and glancing around in a panic. “I was- ‘m awake- I- you said you wanted an anniversary, so-”</p><p>“Crowley, I must insist that you- an anniversary?”</p><p>“Our anniversary. It’s… it’s twelve years since the start of the Apocalypse. I would have saved it for a year after the Ritz, but-” He blushed. “Ijustcouldn’twait,” he mumbled sheepishly.</p><p>“I’ll leave you to it,” Anathema offered, “if you don’t mind miracling me home?”</p><p>“Oh, yeah.” Crowley smiled at her. “Yours is coming up soon, too, isn’t it? Loads to do. Not sure the practice runs were a good idea in the end, though, wasted tons of candles.”</p><p>“My-? <em> Oh.” </em>Anathema’s mouth fell open. Suddenly a lot of things made sense.</p><p>“Our <em> anniversary,” </em> Aziraphale repeated, and the fondness in his voice only underlined the fact that Anathema needed to be elsewhere, <em> now. </em>Thankfully, Crowley seemed to agree; he snapped his fingers, and Anathema found herself on the doorstep of Jasmine Cottage once more.</p><p> </p><p>Newt had never been talking about celebrating the apocalypse-that-wasn’t. He’d been talking about celebrating <em> their </em>anniversary, a year since their rather memorable meeting. Which meant she had five days to work out what she was going to do to surprise her boyfriend. To celebrate everything they’d gained on that memorable day a year earlier.</p><p> </p><p>Well, at least she had plenty of candles in the house already. <em>Some</em> of them weren’t already designated for ritual purposes. And Newt liked the wildflowers that grew around Tadfield, so she could pick a few of those from their garden… she had plenty of ideas, now that she realised what they were celebrating, and she’d never had an opportunity to celebrate an anniversary before.</p><p> </p><p>By the time Newt came back, the following afternoon, she had everything prepared. All she had to do was act natural until the day came.</p><p>“Hey. Everything all right?”</p><p>“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”</p><p>“You seemed quite tense when I left, that's all. I almost came back, but- well, I'm not sure I'm much help, to be honest."</p><p>"Oh, Newt, no-" He looked so forlorn, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was because of her. "You know how important you are to me, don't you?"</p><p>"I am?"</p><p>"Of course you are." She hesitated. "Look, I was going to surprise you, but I think you should know. You were right, before. We should do something to celebrate our anniversary. Together."</p><p>"Yeah?" Newt's worried face broke into a relieved grin. "Yeah, I'd like that."</p><p> </p><p>They were lying in bed together that night when Newt seemed to remember something.</p><p>"Oh, yeah - I meant to ask, what <em> was </em> that phone call about? You seemed worried."</p><p>"Oh, just Aziraphale," she told him sleepily. "Afraid the world might end again."</p><p>"Oh. Oh! And… is it?"</p><p>"No," she told him, snuggling closer and pulling the duvet around them both. "But under the circumstances, I suppose it was a reasonable concern."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><a id="note1" name="note1"></a><sup>1</sup>Just one - Mount Ararat, on an unusually miserable and rainy day. To this very day, Crowley would maintain that he had been trying to cause the most tragic boating accident in history. On such occasions, Aziraphale would smile indulgently and draw the curtains against the drizzle.<sup><a href="#return1">[Return to text]</a></sup></p></blockquote></div></div>
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